


Headspace

by beckettemory



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Ghost Drifting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 11:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckettemory/pseuds/beckettemory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann wakes up in considerable pain and Newt tries so hard to help him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Headspace

**Author's Note:**

> I have a headcanon where Newt and Hermann are each fluent in Chinese, German, and English, and conversational in French, Italian, and Japanese. The proficiency of these increased after they drifted, as they subconsciously filled in the gaps of their understanding. This is related to the fic I swear.

Hermann opened his eyes to the sound of Newton singing in the shower. His first thought was one of murder, shortly followed by the realisation of the deep ache in his body, the sort that wouldn't go away with just stretching and taking it easy. It was the sort that kept his mind sluggish and focused almost solely on the pain with every movement. The sort that would be alleviated only slightly by his medications. He tested his bad leg and hissed when a bolt of pain shot up his body.

He wouldn't get much done today.

Newton reached the climax of his song (Hermann couldn't focus long enough to identify it other than its ranking at 5 of 5 on the standard annoyance scale) and was singing at the top of his lungs now.

In the bathroom, Newton paused in shampooing his hair, his singing all but stopping as he hesitated at the end of the refrain. Hermann had usually cut him off by now. He quickly finished the last chorus of the song as he rinsed his hair and shut off the water, climbing out and drying off quickly.

In his room he hurriedly dressed, not bothering to put on shoes before going back into their shared bathroom and knocking on the door to Hermann's room.

Hermann swiped a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes a moment.

"Come in," he called hoarsely, and Newton cautiously entered.

Newt studied him briefly, taking note of his carefully neutral face and stiff posture under the rumpled bedclothes. He'd just glanced at the clock in his room: 7:21 am. Hermann was usually up and about by now, if not already in the lab.

Newt paused. "Ça va?" he asked.

Hermann shook his head slowly, finally letting some of the pain show on his face. Newt realised after a moment and understanding settled on his brow.

He hovered near the bed. "Can I–uh—?"

"My medication," Hermann murmured. "Please," he added as an afterthought.

"Oh, yeah, uh—" Newt floundered, looking around for the bottle of pills.

"In the bathroom, you idiot," Hermann hissed.

While Newton tripped to the bathroom, Hermann clenched and unclenched his fists. He took a quick mental inventory: left leg, fine; right leg, stiff, painful, spasming; lower back, sore but manageable; upper back, stiff, painful, in an uncomfortable position; arms, fine; neck, stiff and sore but manageable; head, fine except for sluggish thoughts. He shifted, groaning quietly, until he was in a better position.

Newt hurried back in with the recommended dosage of two pills and a large glass of water. He deposited the pills in Hermann's outstretched hand, but when Hermann popped the pills in his mouth and swallowed them dry, he set down the water on the bedside table and stood awkwardly near him.

Hermann closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing the medication to work faster.

"Is it...um...your leg?" Newton asked awkwardly, unsure what to do.

"And my back and neck, yes," Hermann replied without opening his eyes.

"Is there anything else I—"

"Oh, shut up and get over here, you git," Hermann snapped, gesturing to the empty side of the bed, his eyes still closed.

Newt smiled to himself and crossed to the other side of the bed before sliding in and scooting over.

"Newton, shoes," Hermann warned.

"I'm not wearing any!" Newt exclaimed, pressing his bare feet against Hermann's good leg as proof.

Newt found and held Hermann's hand, who squeezed tightly and loosened his grip to a more comfortable one. At the touch, the remnants of the Drift flared and Newt could feel Hermann's pain.

Hermann, too, felt the effects of the Drift. His pain lessened some, and he could feel Newton's perceived helplessness and concern.

Share the load.

_Thank you,_ Newt heard. He responded by squeezing his hand and flipping through his mental music library, choosing the only classical piece he enjoyed and had memorised, Claire de Lune by Debussy.

As the song unfolded in their headspace they both contributed to it, correcting bits here and there, overlapping, like a duet, until Hermann's medication took effect and they both drifted off, hands intertwined and keeping the Drift open. 


End file.
